


The Rain on Baker Street

by Mary_Jane221B



Series: I Would Give You All of Me [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-03 00:44:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15807873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mary_Jane221B/pseuds/Mary_Jane221B
Summary: Sherlock can't sleep when it's raining.





	The Rain on Baker Street

**Author's Note:**

> I will never be done with this series.

Sherlock could not sleep in the rain once he noticed it.

John knew this. So when he woke up in bed and found the other side empty, sheets askew and window open to the storm raging outside he knew where Sherlock would be. He walked in to the living room and clicked on the soft yellow lamp nearest the door. The golden light was faint enough not the be blinding to his sleep weary eyes while providing enough illumination to show him a toy free path to his and Sherlock's desks.

"Why aren't you in bed?" John asked as he approached the huddled lump leaning against the wall near the furthest window.

"It's raining." Sherlock answered.

John rubbed his eyes. "What woke you?" He asked.

"Watson woke up. I heard her over the monitor."

"I didn't hear her." John answered looking toward the shadowed stairs leading up to his daughters nursery. "Is she..."

Sherlock looked up. "She's fine now. Needed a nappy change."

"Alright, why are you still up though? Why not come back to bed?" John wanted to ask why he would not come and search John out as they had agreed but this was not the moment for that conversation.

"Because I noticed it was raining." Sherlock answered quietly.

John sighed. On nights such as this there's was only one answer that came to mind. He walked in to the kitchen and turned on the kettle. He fetched down two mugs, one decaffeinated Yorkshire gold tea bag and one chamomile.

"I don't know chamomile. If I must I want peppermint." Came Sherlock's voice from the living room.

John shook his head but switched the tea bags.

Sherlock stayed sitting on the floor with his back up against the leg of his desk. Outside the rain hit the tarmac of Baker Street with a heavy patter and black cabs raced past with their yellow signs illuminated. London is evident, the couple running under the cover of the tallest woman's jacket laughed together about the fierce rain and shout to each other in English.

John brought the tea and left one cup on the desk above Sherlock's head. He ran his fingers through Sherlock's curls. Sherlock leaned in to it and closed his eyes. They stayed that way for awhile. John sipped his tea and watched rain drops race together, neighbour against neighbour down the pane of glass until eventually the two drops merge and run to the edge of the frame.

Sherlock opened his eyes and watched as John shifted his weight between his legs and hears him sip his tea, Sherlock reached out and gently traced the thin white scar on the inside of John's left thigh.

"I love kissing this one." He said quietly.

John smiled down at him and tugged lightly at the base of the curls his fingers were interwoven with. Sherlock closed his eyes against the light sting.

"Why are you awake and looking at the London rain love?"

"Because it doesn't sound like London rain." Sherlock answered without hesitation.

John tilted his head. "What does it sound like then?"

"Rain from somewhere else?" Sherlock answered looking back to the darkness and cold kept out by the thin glass.

"Another place?" John asked.

"And another time." Sherlock answered.

"Come back to bed Love, you're nowhere else but right here with me." John promised.

"And you're with me too?" Sherlock asked.

"Forever Sherlock, I'm not going anywhere." John held out his hand to help Sherlock up. Sherlock looked at it. Looked at the rain. Then looked back and took John's hand.


End file.
